


Write to Me

by DollieSpock92



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollieSpock92/pseuds/DollieSpock92
Summary: AU Where Crowley and Aziraphale bump into each other at a coffee shop. Unfortunately Crowley doesn't learn his name and must find a way to find his angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 111





	Write to Me

Aziraphale’s iced tea was up and he grabbed the cup in a hurry. He had a bus to catch and his morning had been difficult to say the least. It seemed that today was the day that everything could go wrong had fully planned on doing so. As he turned and stepped towards the exist, eyes still in the book he was reading, he collided into another gentleman behind him with an “oofmmmp”. Tea sloshed out of the improperly lidded cup onto black pants as well as what smelled like black coffee splattered onto his own tan slacks. 

“Oh dear, I am terribly sorry.” He said putting the cup and book down on a nearby table and grabbing some napkins. He dabbed gently at the other’s shoes and then wiped up the floor.   
“No, no it was my fault.” The gentleman said snapping his fingers to gain the attention of the barista that he knew. He mouthed “new one” as he pointed at the man kneeling before him. The barista smiled in acknowledgement and went to making new drinks. He grabbed some napkins of his own and began helping with the mess. 

“I’m pretty clumsy, I tend to make a mess of things.” Aziraphale told him with a slight blush as he took the used napkins from his hands and threw the collection into the garbage.   
“It happens.” Crowley said trying to sound pleasant. He side stepped never breaking eye contact and grabbed the two new drinks. He handed one to Aziraphale who accepted with a shy smile.   
“Thanks, and sorry again.” Aziraphale told him sincerely.  
“No problem, seemed like you were in a hurry.” Crowley said as they walked to the door.   
“I was, trying to catch that bus that just left for work.” Aziraphale replied watching the blue bus go by with a slight dismay.   
“Well I could give you a ride.”   
“No, its okay, it comes every fifteen minutes, I wouldn’t want to put you out.”  
“It’s no big deal, I’m in no hurry.” Crowley said taking a drink of his coffee. The dark roast brought life into his veins. Aziraphale let out a laugh.   
“Last time I got in a car with a stranger-” He started  
“Is that something you often do?” Crowley asked chuckling in return.  
“No, well maybe. I don’t like believing everyone has bad intentions. Either way, my friend Newt yelled at me that I am going to get kidnapped one day.”   
Crowley couldn’t help but chuckle again. Aziraphale had to admit, he rather liked that smile on him.  
“Over there is my car.” He said pointing at the black Bentley parked in front of the no parking sign. “Totally not a kidnapping car. If I was a kidnapper I would go with the traditional van.” He continued.  
He offered his arm and after a moment Aziraphale took it. They walked to the Bentley, Crowley getting the door for him.  
“Where to?” He asked taking him in. He felt something, this was something. He didn’t usually pay any attention to others, but for some reason this was different. He couldn’t put his finger on it. The blond had a beautiful smile, almost angelic really.   
“There is a bookshop about 15 minutes that way that I run.” Aziraphale told him pointing in a direction.   
“Oh are you a sale’s clerk there?” He asked turning onto the road.   
“Oh no, I actually don’t like people that much. I focus on rebinding old books and finding certain editions people are looking for. I just found one at an auction that needs to be rebinded quickly since my client wants it soon.”  
“Ouch not liking people” He said pulling at his collar.  
“No no, you’re fine, it's just most people. People that I don’t spill tea on.” he said laughing. 

Crowley pulled up to the curb in front of an older looking bookshop that he had never noticed. He knew he had driven past this bookshop thousands of times but the way it tucked into itself made it blend in it seemed.   
“Thanks so much for the ride, and I am still really sorry about the coffee.” Aziraphale said apologetically.   
“No trouble” He said feeling his heart fluttering. “Next time, my treat, no spillage necessary.” 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Crowley drove to his work thinking about the odd encounter. He had never met someone whose only concern about getting in someone’s car was their friends yelling at them. Suddenly he was cursing himself hitting the steering wheel. He never asked him his name! He supposed he could go to the bookshop, but that seemed a bit stalkerish. Crowley shook his head trying to get the encounter out of his mind. The man was just so easy to talk to. It felt like he had known him 6000 years or so when they chatted in the car. 

He tried the bookshop after a few days, unable to get the primly dressed man out of his head. Unfortunately, the store hours seemed to be rather erratic and was never open when he tried. He attempted different times for three days before he decided this was fruitless. Perhaps he was at an auction searching for some rare books. Crowley went back to the coffee shop pondering if there was an old book that he would like to start a collection. 

Crowley was a regular at the coffee house and the baristas knew him by name, mainly because he was a fantastic tipper. He asked about the man, but the baristas didn’t know his name, he simply told them to put A. on the order. Apparently he came in sporadically. Always very friendly with a smile and sometimes he would read a book in the corner. Crowley had a card on file for his orders so he tipped each barista a 20 and instructed them to put the man’s next drink on his card. He grabbed his coffee and went back to his life.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Aziraphale walked into the Starbucks barely awake. He had been up late reading and wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the day. Aziraphale noticed the baristas looking at him more than usual, like they were excited to see him. Aziraphale always tipped, but not enough to cause the attention they were giving him. He ordered his tea and went to grab out cash from his pocket when the barista stopped him.   
“Actually, the gentleman that you spilled tea on before wanted to buy you a drink. He left his card on file for us to use.” She explained to him handing Aziraphale the tea.  
“I’m sure he would like your phone number as well.” She continued with a smile.  
Aziraphale thought about it and returned the smile. While he had accepted a ride, this sounded more like dating now. He had just gotten out of an abusive relationship with an old flame Gabriel and he wasn’t keen on jumping back into the waters. The memories too fresh along with the bruises. But he could still play a game to get to know the other if he was willing.  
“Can I pay for his next drink?” He asked pulling out a twenty.   
“Yea of course, he usually comes in every other day. We can save it for that.” Aziraphale pulled out a pad of sticky notes from his pocket.  
“ I wonder if I could write a message on the cup? And also pick the drink. I think it would be more fun that way.” He said smiling. “I will tip of course.” he added.  
“I like this, it sounds fun.” The barista told him excitedly. “He usually drinks black coffee with one expresso shot.”  
“Lets try some flavors then, give him a teddy bear with the carmel, it definitely smells the best. And here’s a note to stick on the cup.” He held it out. The girls giggled and took it.   
“Sure no phone number?”  
“Not yet, had some bad experiences unfortunately. Bit cautious.” Aziraphale admitted truthfully.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Crowley came in the next day and the baristas were overjoyed to see him. They ushered him to the side as one of them made the drink.   
“He stopped by yesterday, was happy to get the drink.” The giddy barista said.  
“Oh was he? That’s great, did he leave his name by chance?” He responded excitedly. He hadn’t been able to get the blond out of his head.  
“No, actually. He left us different instructions.”  
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow over his glasses. This was curious. One of the girls handed him a cup with a blue sticky note on it.   
“This isn’t my drink.” He said eyeing the cup.  
“Nope, he said he wanted to play a game.”  
Crowley sniffed at the opening curiously. It definitely wasn’t his brand of coffee. He pulled off the blue sticky note.

_I love the smell of coffee, but usually detest the taste. Let me know how this one is as it has always smelled the best. Thanks for the drink._   
_ A._

He looked at the cup and couldn’t help but smile. He was definitely interesting. Crowley took a slow swig tasting the carmel. It wasn’t his dark bitter coffee and not something he normally would try, but it wasn’t terrible.   
“He paid for that one, just so you know.” the barista told him with a wink.   
“Aw don’t let him do that.”  
“You don’t want him ordering you drinks?” The barista asked frowning.  
“No no I didn’t say that. Make me all his creations, but I can pay for them. I’ll pay for his as well, just keep the card on file. What does he order?” He asked curiously. Two could play this game.  
“From what remember, it’s just different types of tea. Nothing fancy. Always comes in during the mornings.”   
“That won't do, by chance do you have any sticky notes?” He asked eyeing the blue one.  
“We don’t, but you could write on a cup and we would save it for him. I’m betting he plans on coming in more.”  
“That works. Lets try hot tea this time. It's morning and he looked tired before. Which has a high caffeine amount?”  
“We got the Earl Grey. That has a high dose.”  
“Let's do that.” He replied signaling for a cup. The barista gave him one as they looked on.  
“There we go. Give him that for me.” Crowley said as he took his caramel coffee and left. Life was getting interesting. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Aziraphale came back on Thursday, curious if the other would play the game. He knew it was unusual, but it would without a doubt be fun. He came up the counter and the baristas were beaming.  
“He's got an order for you if you don’t mind.” One of them asked as another filled it.  
“Of course.” Aziraphale replied taking the offered cup and going for his wallet.  
“It’s covered.” the barista told him. Aziraphale turned the cup seeing a note in an answer of his. 

_The caramel was alright, smells better than it tastes. Have you smelled dark roast? I went with a hot tea since I’m not around to be spilled on. They tell me you write A. on your cups. _

  
Clever he thought. He was asking for a name without asking for one.   
“I’d like to buy him another one.” Aziraphale told the barista pulling out his cash.  
“He said it's covered as well. He would be happy to try anything you create.”  
“Seems a bit unfair but we will try it this time.” Aziraphale replied pulling out his blue sticky notes and eyeing the menu.   
“He seems like a regular coffee guy, what are some of your more fancier types?” Aziraphale asked. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
Crowley had been coming in everyday hoping for an answer. The barista greeted him with a smile already beginning to fill the order. He gladly took the offered cup with the blue sticky note plastered to the side. He took a deep drink and was rewarded with a dark mocha chocolate coffee mix. It was rich and creamy and not half bad. 

My name is difficult for most to spell, not suitable for cups. Tell me dear, do you read? A.

  
And back and forth they went learning about each other. He got a new creation from him every Wednesday and Friday. He looked forward to these days the most (although the drinks often not his taste, he did learn the other was delighted by the sweet drinks he created for him after getting bored with tea) the highlight of his morning. Crowley knew it meant he came on Tuesdays and Thursdays but he didn’t try to see him. It felt like it would be breaking some unspoken rule in this game. Crowley learned A. read classics and poetry. A. had even left a book to be given to him. Crowley kept it by his bedside. It wasn’t long before it became more intimate asking each other the sights they wished to see and family members missed. Aziraphale had friends, but no family much like Crowley. 

Once A. brought a friend that was complaining that A. never ate breakfast. He had countered that he always planned on it but never got to it. The barista told Crowley and since then Crowley ordered a new type of food for him each time. A barista must have reported back to the other that Crowley was complaining that he couldn’t find his scarf as a handmade knitted one was left for him a week later.

Crowley did discover a flaw in this game when he came in on Wednesday to no new creation or drink. To say he was worried was an understatement. This had become their habit for three months now. When he didn’t receive one on Friday he went to the bookshop to discover it was still closed. His mind worried but there was nothing to be done. Crowley went on Saturday and was relieved to see a blue sticky note waiting for him.

_Very sorry dear, the baristas told me you were worried. I’ve been unwell. Throat still hurts but fever is gone. A._

Crowley let out a sigh of relief that his friend was okay. He placed an order for a soothing tea and a danish (he found out A. was fond of those as well) but he wanted to do more. 

Around lunch time Crowley placed an order for doordash delivering chicken noodle soup to the bookshop. He figured if A. came for coffee, he might go to work. And with some luck, the shop would actually be open. His phone notified him that the delivery was made causing him to smile. At least he was able to help in a small way. He found himself rather protective of him.

It was Wednesday again and heavily raining when Crowley went into the coffee shop only to find he had no drink again. The barista was apologizing to him as they made a black coffee for him, but one was looking over his shoulder. She looked at him and back down again trying to hide her smile. Crowley turned around to see his writer standing to the side, his face slightly blushing.   
“Ahem, Sorry didn’t make it yesterday and well little late today I guess.” Aziraphale said still soaked from the rain. He looked nervous and a bit flustered but a smile played at his lips. Crowley’s eyes lit up as he stuck out his hand.  
“Crowley.”   
“Aziraphale.” the blond said taking the hand.  
“Aziraphale.” Crowley said softly trying out the name. “Can-can I get you a drink?” He gestured to the counter.   
“I believe it's probably my turn isn’t it?”   
“I don’t mind.” Crowley said as the baristas started making their traditional orders. “Could I give you a ride to the bookshop?”  
“I’m actually not opening it today. I thought maybe if you have time…” Aziraphale said gesturing to a table.   
“I do, of course I do.” Crowley said turning to grab their drinks and heading to one of the empty tables. The sat down facing each other after months of writing.   
“It’s good to finally meet you well again. I tried going to the bookshop again, but it’s always closed.”  
“Oh we tend to have strange hours. To be honest, I don’t particularly like selling my books.”  
“But you own a bookshop.”   
“Yes I know.”  
Crowley just stared at him with a grin plastered across his face.  
“You’re wearing the scarf I made, I’m glad you like it.” Aziraphale said starting to blush again.  
“It’s by far my favorite.” Crowley said leaning forward. “How are you feeling?”  
“ A bit unwell again. I’ve had a lot of orders and I haven’t really taken a break. Oh dear I hope I don’t get you sick as well. I really just didn’t want you to go without another drink.” Aziraphale rambled.  
“I don’t usually get sick, could have just given me your number. I don’t want it getting worse.” Crowley told him eyeing the water still dripping from him.   
“I’ll be fine dear.” Aziraphale told him but went into a coughing fit. “I’m so sorry, this is probably not how you pictured us meeting again. I think I’ll head home.” He stood up shakily his cheeks flushed. He had hoped this would have gone better. He rather liked this red haired man. He was charming and kind.  
“I will drive you.” Crowley standing up. 

He grabbed a newspaper and walked him to his Bentley holding it above their heads, a makeshift shield. He linked their arms keeping Aziraphale close while holding his hot tea. Once in the car, Crowley turned the heat to max to dry them.   
“That feels wonderful.” Aziraphale said placing his hands against the vents. Crowley handed him his hot tea having forgotten his own coffee.   
“Fluids.”  
Aziraphale took the cup and drank.   
“Thank you dear, again I am awfully sorry about this.”  
“Nothing to be sorry about. I finally learned your name. Not going to let you get away so easily this time.” He grinned.  
“They can never spell it right and some are afraid they will say it wrong so I just tell them A.” Aziraphale explained.  
“Could come up with a nickname.”  
“You can’t come up with your own nickname, what would you call me?”   
Crowley pondered for a moment.   
“I’d call you angel, you’ve certainly brought light into my life.” He said with a smile.   
“Possibly a viral infection as well.” Aziraphale said sneezing after. Crowley reached across and opened the glove box pulling out a handkerchief. He handed it over.  
“I’m okay with that. Do you have any meds at home, you look like your fever is coming back.”   
“No, not really. I’ve just been getting by with tea.”   
Crowley scrunched up his face.   
“We are stopping at a store.” He declared turning the car.   
“This really isn’t necessary. Medicine makes me sleepy anyways.” Aziraphale said waving his hand dismissively.  
“Just let me take care of you. You are clearly sick.” Crowley pleaded pulling into the parking lot.  
Aziraphale looked at him for a moment, “I suppose”   
Crowley let out a breath and smiled.  
“Wait here, don’t need you back out in the rain.” He said opening the door leaving the car on.

He hurried into the shop still getting soaked by the downpour. He grabbed a red basket and went to the medicine aisle. He looked through the different colored liquids and boxes of pills until he found fever reducer. Unable to decide what to buy, he begin just grabbing one of everything till he had half a basket full. He stopped at another aisle and grabbed some icy hots and an ice compress. He headed to the register with his treasures.   
“Someone dying?” The lady asked with a half chuckle.  
“Not on my watch.” 

He slipped back into the car giving the bag to Aziraphale.  
“My dear, is all this really necessary?” Aziraphale asked eyes wide.  
“Well I didn’t exactly know which flavor to buy so I got all of them.” He replied turning the car in gear.  
“I know where you work, but not where you live.” Crowley added.  
“Oh you actually do. I live in the flat upstairs.”  
“There is a flat in there?” he asked incredulously.  
“Well yes, it's not very big but it suits my needs.” Aziraphale replied a tad defensively.   
“Of course, of course.” He said turning the car.   
  
“Didn’t mean anything by it.” Crowley said apologetically cursing his small talk.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t make the best sick person.” Aziraphale said with a slight chuckle. Crowley pulled up to the bookshop parking the car.   
“You forgot your own coffee. I can make you some up in the flat. It's not the best brand mind you-”  
“I’d love to.” Crowley said opening the door. He ran to the other side opening Aziraphale’s before he could.  
“Why thank you.” He said getting up and fishing out his keys. He opened the door and ushered Crowley inside.   
Crowley took in the shelves and shelves full of old books and an ungodly amount of dust. If Aziraphale truly didn’t want to sell his books, he was doing a good job. He followed Aziraphale to the back and up a set of steps to his flat. While it wasn’t big, it was a modest flat. Aziraphale hung up his coat and offered to do the same for Crowley who shrugged his off. He put the tea kettle on and started his old coffee machine. Aziraphale thought he’d try coffee once upon a time and decided it just wasn’t his taste. However, he kept the coffee pot as he become slightly attached to his things.   
“Its foyers I’m afraid” He said filling the pot his hands slightly shaking.  
“Hey hey, sit I know my way around a coffee pot.” Crowley said guiding Aziraphale to a nearby chair.   
“Mugs?” he questioned and Aziraphale pointed to a cupboard. Crowley pulled out two mugs and found the tea bags.

“I do feel really silly about all this.” Aziraphale said as Crowley handed him a steaming mug and began pulling out the different medicines.  
“Don’t be. Been waiting months to see you.” Crowley reading a few of the boxes.  
“Runny nose, fever, and coughing.” He said selecting a few boxes and placing them in front of him.  
“Don’t suppose one cures being ungodly hot then cold.” He said sniffling.  
“Not that sadly, but I got enough cough syrup to knock out an anaconda.” Crowley replied opening a bottle. He poured some in the little cap and past it over. Aziraphale drank it while making a face.   
“I appreciate the medicine.” He said as Crowley drank his coffee.  
“Wish there was more I could do. I could order some soup?” He said helpfully.  
“No that's quite alright dear. You did that the other day. It was very kind.”   
“Should probably get some sleep.” Crowley said taking another drink.  
“I’ll try, but I’ve never really slept much. I’ll probably just end up reading.”  
“I could read to you if you think it would help.” His voice came out a little more shaky than he liked. He really didn’t want to leave Aziraphale’s side yet.   
“Oh I don’t want to put you out.”  
“It’s no trouble if it would help you sleep.”  
Aziraphale gave him a smile that had Crowley’s heart stammering. He would read to him forever if he could get that smile again.   
“Well then, I’d like that.”

He followed Aziraphale into his small bedroom. More bookshelves covered the walls overflowing with books. The bed was tucked against the back wall, small yet cozy. Crowley didn’t see a chair to sit on so resigned himself to sit on the floor as Aziraphale was taking his shoes off.   
“Oh dear boy, you don’t have to sit on the ground, the bed is plenty big enough.”  
“Ngk, yes sure.” He said watching Aziraphale slip into bed and scooch to the side. They had already picked out a book, “The Hounds of Baskerville” and Aziraphale went into another coughing fit. Crowley slipped in beside him pulling his head into his chest until it subsided.   
“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale said into his shirt.  
“It’s okay.” He stuttered out keeping an arm around him.

While he didn’t know Aziraphale for all that long, it felt like this was where he belonged. He moved the blanket tucking it more firmly around the man and opened the book to read. It was long before Aziraphale was fast asleep. Crowley wasn’t sure what to do at this point. He didn’t have anywhere to go though and he didn’t particularly want to leave the sleeping man. Plus Aziraphale had completely latched onto him seeking his cold skin for overly hot flesh. Crowley scooted down careful not to wake him so he was lying on the pillow as well. Aziraphale adjusted himself so he was lying on his chest. Crowley closed his eyes thinking for the first time ever, he felt like he was just where he was suppose to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened here, I think I've had too much caffeine honestly. Possibly a 2nd chapter.


End file.
